


Bleed Out

by nakura



Category: Corpse Party (Video Game)
Genre: BDSM, Blood and Injury, Bruises, Knifeplay, M/M, Rope Bondage, Yaoi, what i am doing with my life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-10
Updated: 2015-04-10
Packaged: 2018-03-22 03:37:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3713440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nakura/pseuds/nakura
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>PwP, with the boys deciding to have some knifeplay (or what they define it as), in the middle of Heavenly Host.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bleed Out

**Author's Note:**

> Don't do this at home.

      At first, the blade threatened to kiss his right shoulder without touching. It shone coldly against the pallor of his body, swinging from one extreme to another and slightly passing the short strands of his hair. They prickled every time it went past neck, at the same time that the bottom part of the boy’s body received a much more warm attention.

      It was beautiful how easily Sakutaro gave in to his touches, legs trembling whenever the palm of Kizami’s hand would find his crotch and twist against it.

      Not like the younger man wasn’t easy since the beginning. There was some doubt when Kizami suggested that idea, some opposition when his hands were tied back and his glasses were taken off his face, which only seemed surprised with it all.

      “It’s all too blurry.”

      “That’s alright. You’ll only need to _feel_ it.”

      And that was all he needed to accept what could be called torture by some. By some-- The Byakudan high schooler never showed anything but a smirk when doing that, having his gray sharp hues glinting with every anticipation made by the knife he was holding so strongly into. And Morishige-- Well, there was a certain pressure, cold shivers assaulting his stomach, but the fear only increased his excitement.

      Insanity helped put him together.

      A normal person would find taking off their clothes and being bare, vulnerable at the haunted hall a bad idea, but not them. Who cared? Until now, no spirit bothered to show up and kill them, there was no human voice nearby for a good couple of hours, they were tired and hungry and had no other choice, so what did they have to lose?

      Besides a few drops of blood and a composed skin, of course.

      Pants a few inches down his thighs, cock hard up and buried in the other’s hole, hands holding down the freshman on his place-- If anything happened, Kizami could easily escape for his safety and leave the younger helplessly. But how could he now, when Morishige’s skin broke so easily at each cut, when his blood tinted the bruises in such a pretty red?

      Moving out a bit, he let the knife move downwards, painting the middle of his back.

      It hurt how tight Morishige would get after each cut, how his insides would clamp and suck him in. It only made the elder want to ram himself deeper, not caring on how loud the other would scream, or how much strength he would have to put into it. It actually was even better to have that annoying silence filled with chocked gasps and groans, with just the sound of their skin clapping against each other and the vision of the male _melting_ \- in all possible ways - underneath him, clenching his nails on the false window to not fall _right there_. The grasp on his skin was not that strong, yet enough to open up, increasingly clear.

      It was when the painful touch reached his sides and had its own fun with the waistline that Morishige knew he was at his limit. Mostly because of the spot that Yuuya’s thick length kept abusing at each thrust, slickly filling him with precum and making his entire being weak - but also for the aching strips all over his back, the reddish patterns drawn witness of their action.

      “Nnng, you are being such a good boy...”

      Yuuya would moan against his ear, licking it as he gave another hard thrust. God, that was too much, he felt so full and too unrelieved, used so well under the elder’s figure. One more stroke, thrust or slash and he swore he would explode.

      Or maybe none of the above.

      The knife was bought up to the height of his eyes, and even if his vision was a total blur, mess from the mixed emotions, he could clearly see only the sharp side soaking with his blood. If he tried enough, could see Kizami’s face reflection on it, even if only for a few seconds.

      “Lick it.”

      For the first time, he had to turn his face to confirm that task. He wasn't kidding. Fuck, he really wasn't kidding, and apparently wouldn't start moving his hips again if Morishige didn't obey that order.

      He had nothing to lose.

      Nodding, the boy stuck out his tongue, carefully brushing it against the blade, the bitter taste invading his mouth and throat. It felt like he was going to puke at any moment from the way the bottom of his belly ached for release, but everything mingled into pleasure when Kizami started to fuck him again, letting him feel well every inch of his length while held the knife against his lips. It was almost clean, and the closer to the end the first year student was, the eager he got--.

      Not suppressing his grunt, the boy came when noticed hot liquid spilled inside him, dirtying the other’s hands and gaining a dry laugh in response. He whimpered when Yuuya returned his glasses and pulled out of him, kissing the first bruise made, right below his shoulder.

      And on the softest way possible, run his hands through his marked back, whipping out the pain.


End file.
